The Other Side of War
by Coffee-is-Life
Summary: This is basically a spin-off of The Second Kalmar Union, which explores the relationships that I could not include, as I felt that they did not fit in the story arc. It will be told in a series of drabbles that my good friend Scotty wrote. Rating may go up (especially for the ScotFran chapter).
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello, it's me again. Apparently having only one story going at a time isn't enough for me.

Anyway, The Other Side of War is a series of drabbles that go to The Second Kalmar Union. I did not write these; my very good friend Scotty wrote these chapters. All I did was type them, edit them, and post them.

If you have not read The Second Kalmar Union, I suggest that you read it first. This will make a lot more sense if you do. I guarantee it.

Each chapter will begin with the day number that corresponds to the date in The Second Kalmar Union.

Disclaimer: I don't own this writing, and neither my friend not I own Hetalia (but imagine if we did! *evil laughter*).

Anyway, I think this is it. Enjoy!

* * *

Day 16-17: Prussia and Hungary, Part 1

Italy was freaking out. And not the usual "Ah! No! Don't shoot! I surrender!" freaking out, but the hiding-in-a-tent-and-worrying-obsessively freaking out. Unfortunately, he had chosen Prussia and Hungary's tent to freak out in.

"Don't worry, Ita. Germany will be okay," Hungary said, trying to calm the Italian down.

"But, but…"Italy blubbered.

"Vest'll be fine," Prussia assured him, as he pulled the smaller nation out from under the bed. "Now vhy don't you go back to your tent? Romano must be vorried."

Italy stumbled out of the tent and Prussia snapped the flaps shut, sighing.

"Aren't you worried, Prussia?" Hungary asked accusingly.

"Of course I am. But I can't say zhat to Italy. It'd only make him vorry more."

There was a pause, in which both countries battled with the decision to say what was on their minds.

"We should go save him," they said together. Prussia smirked and Hungary smiled, then they went to make preparations.

* * *

In the dead of night, they snuck out towards the other camp. They crossed the deserted battlefield without incident. As they approached England's camp, they ducked into a convenient ditch.

"Okay," Hungary began, "we go in. We look for him. If we find him, we grab him and get out. If we don't-"

"He's here," Prussia growled. "He's got to be. Zhere's no vay-"

He tensed. Someone was coming. Prussia grabbed Hungary and kissed her, effectively hiding her. His hat hid his hair, so when the flashlight swept over them, he didn't give them away.

"Oi!" the soldier shouted. Prussia broke the kiss, but still didn't turn towards the soldier. "This isn't the place for snogging!"

"Sorry, mate." Prussia did a surprisingly good British accent. "Not much privacy elsewhere."

"Then save for later." The soldier moved on, and as soon as he was gone, Hungary pushed Prussia away from her.

"What. The. Hell?" she hissed, blushing.

Prussia, also blushing, pretended not to hear her. "C'mon. Let's go."

He leapt out of the ditch. Hungary grumbled something in her native language (something about idiots playing with her emotions) and followed him. They snuck through the camp, avoiding firelight and only chancing glances at the various lit tents. Afterhours of searching with no luck, they stopped to rest. They sat on down on a supply crate (odd that it was labeled "Vodka" -what kind of army marched with a supply of vodka?).

"How can zhere be so many tents?" Prussia sighed.

"There are lots of soldiers," Hungary said grimly. "I'm surprised that the army has not been outnumbered yet."

Prussia was about to make a comment about how he was a "military beast", but, again, he heard someone coming. This time, Hungary heard it too. They stood and wove through the stacks of supply crates, and, despite the fact that they were moving silently, the person seemed to be following them fairly efficiently. It was Hungary's turn to find a brilliant hiding place, and when she saw a large empty supply crate, she shoved Prussia in and climbed in after, pulling the lid over the top of the box as she did so.

"Ow!" "Vhat ze-" "Shh!" "Quit elbowing mein stomach!" "Shut up!" "Get off!"

They struggled and scrambled until they came face-to-face, mere inches apart. A tense pause followed, in which they watched blushes creep across each other's faces and they moved slowly closer, then, with a resounding snap, the crate was opened and the mood vanished.

"You were right, Mr. Braginsky. I found them," an American soldier called to someone behind him.

"Good, I will be escorting them back to their camp, da?"

"Er, right…"the American said as he pulled Hungary and Prussia out of the box and shoved them towards Russia, who held his "magic cane." Not worrying about Hungary, the Russian hooked the faucet around Prussia's neck and escorted them out.

* * *

Approaching Norway's camp, they saw Austria waiting impatiently.

"Danke, Russia," he said curtly. Russia smiled creepily and headed back to his own camp. Both Hungary and Prussia winced when Austria turned and glared at them. They were in **so** much trouble.


	2. Chapter 2

Day 18: Prussia and Hungary, Part 2

Prussia and Hungary were having a moment when they heard a commotion outside. Going to investigate, they saw Denmark arguing with Finland and Sweden.

"No, Denmark, you can't!"

"Like Hell I can't! He needs my help!"

"Y'r h'rt."

"That doesn't matter!"

"Hey, Denny," Prussia began hastily. "Vhat's happening?"

"Norway went off to fight England," Denmark huffed. "He needs my help and these two-" he pointed at Sweden and Finland "-won't let me go!"

"Y'r h'rt," Sweden said again.

"You've got a hole in your stomach," Finland insisted.

"So zhis is your veak spot?" Prussia smirked as he poked the Dane lightly in the stomach. The Dane doubled over, wincing. Prussia frowned. "Oh, maybe you shouldn't go, Denny."

"I- I'm fine," Denmark muttered as he straightened painfully.

"Nein, don't lie. It is not awesome."

At that, Denmark glared at Prussia, but it was muffled by pain.

"I've got it!" Hungary exclaimed suddenly, as she ran up, startling the others.

"Got what?" Finland asked.

"Why don't Prussia and I go help him, Denmark?"

They all stared at her for a moment, then Denmark shrugged and stumbled back to his tent. Finland smiled at Hungary gratefully before following Sweden back to their tent. Prussia just gave her a curious look.

"What?" she asked defensively.

"Nozzing, let's go."

* * *

They fought their way across the battlefield with few problems. The camp was also mostly empty and it was easy to find where Norway and England had already begun fighting. Prussia and Hungary hid behind a tent and watched tensely. (It was entirely possible that their fates rested on the outcome of this small battle.)

Norway and England seemed evenly matched until England decided to use magic. Norway dodged the spell easily enough, which meant that it hurtled past him, directly towards the tent that Prussia and Hungary were hiding behind. Prussia pulled Hungary out of the way an instant before the tent exploded.

When they looked back at the fight, they saw that England had Norway pinned to the ground. Hungary made as if to go help, but Prussia pulled her back behind another tent.

"Let me go!"

"Nein!"

"I told Denmark that we'd help Norway."

"You are not getting in between two magic nations that are dueling each other."

"I can handle myself, thank you very much."

Somehow, over their muttered argument, Prussia and Hungary heard something unexpected.

"I … I surrend- surrender."

They peaked out and saw that Norway had clearly beaten England. Grinning, they dashed out and collected England. As they were leaving, Hungary heard a soft thump. She turned and saw that Norway had passed out -blood loss, no doubt.

"Go on ahead," she told Prussia, who nodded and escorted England away. Hungary hefted the unconscious Norway onto her back and followed the albino back to the other camp.

* * *

A/N: I don't have to explain to you, dear reader, what kind of moment Prussia and Hungary were having, do I? :D

Disclaimer: I didn't write this; my friend Scotty did. Neither of us own Hetalia. That is all.


	3. Chapter 3

Day 21: Prussia and Hungary: Return of the King

Norway was still unconscious, Denmark was still incredibly stressed out, Germany was still missing, and Italy was still freaking out. Prussia lay, exhausted, on his cot; it was Hungary's turn to calm down the Italian, who was, luckily, in his own tent.

Prussia was almost asleep when someone peeked into his tent.

"Haló?"

Prussia groaned in response.

"C'm on, lad. 'M tryin' ta help ya."

"If you vanted to help, you'd let zhe awesome me sleep."

"Alrigh', Franny and I'll jus' get Germany ourselves."

At that, Prussia bolted upright. Scotland stood just inside the tent, smirking.

"You know vhere Vest is?"

"Aye, lad, an' I can ge' ya there quick. We can head ou' now, if ya like."

Prussia shook his head. "Zhere is someone who-"

As if on cue, that someone burst into the tent, bumping into Scotland.

"Oh! Sorry!" Hungary said. She went to her cot and flopped down, then sat up again. "Wait, what's happening? Why is Scotty here?"

"He knows vhere Vest is und he can take us."

"Really? Oh thank goodness, Ita's ready to have a nervous breakdown."

Prussia smiled as he helped her out of her cot. They got their weapons and first aid together quickly. Scotland was surprised at how willing they were to work together. Usually when he saw them, they were arguing (and frying pans were often involved).

They stood at attention in front of Scotland.

"So," Hungary began, "how are we getting there?"

Prussia had a look like he knew how and really was having regrets about agreeing to go. Scotland smirked and grabbed hold of their arms, turning in a nearly perfect circle.

The loud _crack_ of apparating echoed in the empty entry hall. Hungary immediately doubled over, retching. Prussia alos looked a bit green (actually, a lot green, considering how pale he normally was).

"What -what was that?" Hungary asked shakily, after having straightened up again.

"Apparation. Bu' don' bother yer head wit' I', lass." Scotland tossed a tin cup to Prussia. "Tha'll take ya back whne yer all touchin' i'."

Scotland turned on the spot and, with another loud _crack, _he was gone.

"Are you as confused as I am?"

"Ja, but I try not to zhink about it."

They found the correct hallway and went down it, their senses on high alert. They ran into the first trap about a hundred yards in. Hungary had just enough time to pull Prussia down before the left wall was impaled with arrows.

"At least his traps are normal," Hungary sighed.

"Zhere's bound to be somezhing else," Prussia muttered.

They continued down the hallway and down several flights of stairs, avoiding axes, arrows, and fires; fighting strange beasts; and generally feeling like they were in a video game. They finally ended up in a high-roofed cavern. It was as far as they could go.

"Where are we?" Hungary whispered.

"Close, I hope," Prussia whispered back.

Going on, they heard chains clicking. They looked at each other with a mix of excitement and apprehension, and then dashed off. They didn't notice the final trap until it was upon them.

They were very suddenly shrouded in a golden mist; then the world turned upside-down. It was like the ground and the ceiling switched places. Hungary looked down (or was it up?) and screamed. She had always been afraid of heights -ever since she'd fallen from one of the towers of the King's home when she was younger. She fell to her knees, gripping the floor, fearing that she would fall to the ceiling above (below?) her.

"I'm here, liebe."

She shut her eyes and clung blindly to Prussia's arm.

"It's ok, liebe. You just have to move."

She shook her head again, whimpering.

"I'll help you, here," he said as he tenderly took her hands and helped her stand shakily. "Alright now, just one step, zhat's all."

Hungary shook her head again, eyes still squeezed shut.

"Liza," Prussia said gently, "it's alright. If you fall, I'll catch you."

She opened her eyes hesitantly and saw that he was smiling softly. She took a deep breath and, not looking down (up?), took a step forward. The world tumbled back to normal. Hungary stumbled into Prussia's arms and they stood there for a bit, Hungary trying to compose herself and Prussia murmuring comforting bits of an old language that they used to share.

It wasn't until they realized how much closer the sound of chains rattling was that they released each other. They proceeded cautiously and, at the end of the cavern, they found, "Vest!" Prussia rushed forward to the cell which was, surprisingly, unlocked. Prussia tugged at the chains just as uselessly as Germany had. Hungary pulled him away and picked the locks with a random flattened nail.

"Danke," Germany said gratefully when the chains fell from his wrists. He rubbed them to restore the circulation. Prussia pulled out the tin cup. They all took hold of it, Germany giving his brother a strange look and Hungary looking exceedingly nervous. With an odd tug, they were whisked away.

Suffice it to say, when Prussia and Hungary returned with Germany, Italy glomped the blonde, crying for joy.

Prussia and Hungary retired to their tent, exhausted. Laying on her cot, Hungary's thoughts drifted back to her panic attack in the dungeon. Prussia had called her by her human nick-name. And "liebe." What exactly did that mean?

She rolled over in her cot, expecting Prussia to be asleep, but he was alos lost in thought, absently toying with his Iron Cross necklace.

"Prussia?" she asked quietly.

He looked over. "Ja?"

"You called me something earlier, when I…" She blushed and was surprised to see Prussia blushing.

"Ja, vhat about it?"

"What did it mean?"

"I zhought zhe little master taught you German," he said with a slight edge of bitterness.

"He did…well, he tried."

Prussia didn't say anything for a while. Finally, he murmured, "'Love.'"

"What?"

"It means 'love.' Zhat's vhat I called you, vhat I always wanted to call you, but you've got your little master…"

Hungary stared. "Hülye." She got up and sat on his lap. He sat up in surprise and she pulled him closer, sealing the deal with a kiss.

* * *

A/N: Still not ginger, and I still didn't write this. The writing is by Scotty (my friend, obviously, who we call Scotty) and Hetalia is not ours.


	4. Chapter 4

** M- **

** Don't read this. I'm serious. Unless you want an unexpected adventure into the realm of what truly being a fangirl means. **

** -L**

Day 16

France and Scotland were going to share a tent and France couldn't have been happier. France had joined England, expecting Scotland to put family first and join their side, but he had apparently forgotten how ambitious England was.

That didn't matter now. France and Scotland were both fighting for Norway, and it seemed that they had some alone time. Scotland snapped the tent flaps shut and turned to the Frenchman sitting on his cot.

Since he had become independent, Scotland had seen less and less of France. Their interactions had been reduced to brief -er- "conversations" between and after meetings, but now France was simply smiling up at him.

"I's been a while."

"Oui."

A pause. Then France was standing and they were holding each other close.

"I've missed you so much, mon amour."

"Aye. I've missed ya, too, Franny." Scotland leaned down and kissed him. "_Tha gaol agam ort,_ Francis."

"_Je t'aime aussi,_ Alistor." France pulled him toward the cot.

"Really? Now?" Scotland chuckled.

"_Oui_," he replied, yanking the red-haired man onto the cot, "_maintenant_."

They kissed passionately, with France tugging at their clothes needily. Scotland chuckled again and sat back on the cot (which he'd had the foresight to magically reinforce -ergo the fact that it had not yet broken under the weight of two grown men). France ran his hands over Scotland's now bare abs, humming appreciatively. "_Très beau_, as usual."

Scotland just raised an eyebrow and tilted the other's chin up, rubbing his thumb over his lips. France licked his tongue, then started sucking on his fingers. Once they were slick, Scotland pushed a finger into France's entrance. France gasped and shivered at the sudden intrusion, but it soon turned into sounds of pleasure as Scotland moved his finger and added another, scissoring, stretching France out.

He didn't need much stretching, though, because, soon, he was ready. Scotland positioned himself and France wrapped his legs around his waist. Scotland pushed in with little difficulty. They paused a moment, just a moment, relishing the fact that, even after all these years, they still fit together like two pieces from the same puzzle.

Then, they started moving. Their sounds grew in intensity as they moved faster and faster. France combed long fingers through Scotland's rust-red hair. Scotland nipped and sucked at France's neck, leaving more than a few red marks.

"I- I'm cl- close," France said breathlessly.

"M-me too," Scotland grunted.

"Together?"

"Aye."

With only a few more thrusts, they came together, moaning each other's name.

They lay together, France's head resting on Scotland's chest, snuggling under the blankets.

"Je t'aime, Alistor."

"Tha gaol agam ort, Francis."

"Bonne nuit."

"G'night."

They fell asleep together, the first time they had been able to do so in many years.

* * *

A/N: Once again, I did not write this; my friend Scotty decided that I wasn't telling the whole story of the Second Kalmar Union, and decided to write some extra chapters. We don't own Hetalia.


	5. Chapter 5

Russia was hiding under his cot. It wasn't really working.

"Oh Big Brother, I see you. Come out from under there and stop being silly."

Russia whimpered, but crawled out from under his bed and looked up at Belarus.

"Yes?" he asked, barely keeping his voice from shaking. "What is it?"

"I wanted to spend time with you," she pouted. "You are always busy and avoiding me."

Russia was scared, but he also felt bad. He had never spent very much time with either of his sisters, but especially not Belarus. He sighed and sat down on the edge of his cot, motioning for Belarus to sit next to him. She sat in his lap, causing him to blush a bit. "Um, what are you doing?"

"Sitting with Big Brother."

There was an awkward pause in which Belarus snuggled closer to Russia's chest.

"I'm sorry, I -I am having to meet England. Goodbye." He pushed her off his lap and rushed out of the tent.

* * *

Belarus was still there when Russia returned later that night. She had fallen asleep on his cot and was snuggling with his blankets. She looked so small and sweet on the over-sized cot, and Russia smiled down at her. He sat next to her and brushed the hair out of her face. Russia loved his little sister, he really did, just not the way she wanted to love him.

She stirred a bit, whimpering. "No, Big Brother, please. Don't. Don't hurt him…"

Russia was shocked, but his brotherly instincts kinked in. "Shh, it's ok, Natalia. I'm here."

She whimpered a bit more, then woke with a start. She looked at Russia, both fearfully and angrily.

"Is there something wrong?" Russia asked.

Belarus hesitated. "Just a nightmare." She looked away from him. "But Big Brother is here, so it's alright."

She got up and left without another word.

* * *

The next day, Belarus seemed to be avoiding Russia for a change. Finally, he found her in her tent.

"Something is wrong."

"No."

"Da."

She looked at him seriously, but there was still that fear and anger that she had when she woke up from her nightmare.

"Tell me, Bela."

"I will if you marry me."

"Nyet."

They stared at each other again. Then Belarus sighed and sat on her cot. "I was dreaming that you and Lithuania were fighting…"

Russia frowned at that, but said nothing.

"I need to make a choice. My heart is telling me that."

Russia remained silent, but shifted nervously. She usually got scary when she talked about her heart.

"I choose," she began, looking up at Russia, "you, big Brother!"

Russia gave a very manly "Eep!" and ran, Belarus following on his heels.

* * *

Lithuania peeked out from behind Belarus's tent as Russia and Belarus ran off. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but it's hard to not listen when your crush says your name. Despite the fact that she said she chose Russia, Lithuania was smiling; he had a glimmer of hope: he voice had been edged with uncertainty.

* * *

A/N: You know the drill, right? Right.


End file.
